


Gladiolus

by Aston (AstonT)



Series: Life In Color [29]
Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Anxiety, Anxiety Attacks, Emotional Growth, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Friendship, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, Panic Attacks, Scratching, Self-Doubt, Self-Esteem Issues
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-04-23
Updated: 2017-04-22
Packaged: 2018-10-22 16:39:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,327
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10700925
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AstonT/pseuds/Aston
Summary: "Take care of yourself but carry the whole world, just forget that it hurts." - You, The Room, and The Devil On Your Shoulder, As It IsYuuri's anxiety isn't new to those who know him.His strength is, though, and it's a long road to recovery.





	Gladiolus

**Author's Note:**

> Name is a flower, by the way.  
> It represents strength.  
> I apologize ahead of time for any mischaracterizations.
> 
> Pairings are as of yet undecided.   
> Yuuri and Victor are not together in this (it may wind up being Victuuri endgame, though). Let me know if you want to see a certain pairing

Competition season was always rough on Yuuri. Between the anxiety that came up double-time when he had all eyes on him on the ice and the too-inclusive banquet nights that followed every event, he was never sure which way he was supposed to be going.

He wasn't skilled in socializing. No, he was awkward and shy and would much rather be hidden away from the rest of the world than at a banquet or a diner with any of his competitors, even if he was friends with a few of them.

He'd never had an answer before on why besides the fact that it caused his already crippling anxiety and self doubt to become suffocating and painful, but he figured it had something to do with the fact that when he was on the ice he was alone and everyone else blurred into the background of a too-big room.

He thought on it a lot when he had to be out with the other skaters and their coaches and families and loved ones.

He usually found himself sitting off to the side somewhere, just watching the interactions as if he weren't part of the moment.

And if he wanted to be honest with himself, he _wasn't_ part of the moment. He didn't belong there, his mind too frazzled to hold eye contact with anyone for an extended period of time, much less a conversation.

He missed the looks some of the others gave him in these moments.

He never saw the confusion in the eyes of his competitors - the ones who didn't know more than his name and what he looked like.

But it was there, always lying beneath the surface as they made some sort of attempt to understand the situation.

The only ones who never pushed Yuuri to talk were Phichit and the Russian Yuri.

Phichit because he knew how Yuuri was - being roommates with the other male had taught him a lot about him, so he understood.

And Yuri because while he didn't understand, he could see the discomforted look that Yuuri gave when someone tried to pull him into the conversation.

* * *

Alone. Alone was safe, but it still hurt.

Since Victor had become his coach, he was learning just how much alone had always hurt, but he still felt like he was a million miles away from everyone else, even with someone standing beside him, anchoring him in the moment as best as they could.

Most times, it was Victor doing so, and Yuuri wished he wouldn't.

He wished a lot of things involving Victor.

That he wouldn't try to keep Yuuri grounded in the present. That he wouldn't be so damned affectionate so constantly.

That he'd just open his eyes and see that he was wasting his time.

But he never said any of these thoughts out loud. He didn't want to face the backlash that was sure to come from them.

So instead, when he was on the ice and everything was blurred from his lack of glasses and his own thoughts, when everyone had faded into nonexistence to him, leaving him alone with his thoughts that hurt more than any physical injury ever could and the cold ice and the overwhelming, echoing size of the room, he just let himself show his own insecurities in his skating.

If it got through to the people he knew were watching, he didn't know.

His free skate program was what had him the most open, if he were honest, and what he lacked in confidence off the ice, he more than made up for in his time alone out there.

It sort of scared him, the idea of being so open with so many people watching him.

But in that moment, all that mattered was how he felt. Not what everyone else was thinking about him. 

However, as soon as he was off the ice, his anxiety definitely kicked in. 

He could see the surprised awe in Victor's blue eyes. 

He could hear the murmurs as he passed other people. 

First chance he had, he hid  himself in the bathroom to call his family - so, so like the Final where he'd crashed and burned, but this time he wasn't defeated. Not yet. 

The happy reassurances of his family both calmed him and pushed him over his edge. 

He had time, he knew. He could have his meltdown in peace, and nobody would be any the wiser. 

But as soon as the first shaky breath left him - a strangled half sob, half gasp for air that just wouldn't make it to his lungs - a familiar kick to the door happened. 

He pulled it open without moving from his curled position. 

Fiery green-blue eyes half hidden by blond hair stared at him, then nearly softened beyond recognition. 

"Victor is looking for you, piggy." 

Honestly, even if Yuuri wanted to move to fix the issue, he couldn't. He didn't have the strength to get up from his perch. 

In fact, his only response to the words were a shaky nod and another broken sob of a breath that set his throat and lungs on fire again. 

Silence fell, broken by the gasping, painful breaths and the shaky, quiet sobs at uncertain intervals. 

Then finally, Yuri just sighed and knelt in front of the mess of the Japanese skater. 

And slowly, he started coaxing him into breathing with him - slow, deep breaths - a technique that Victor had taught him at the start. 

He was surprised that the elder skater hadn't taught Yuuri yet how to get through these alone. 

But then, he mused, maybe Victor couldn't teach him more than he already knew because it wasn't a fight like it had been with Yuri and his first painful panic attack. 

Then the words that he'd heard from Yuuri's sister came back, dancing on the edges of a memory tempered with exhaustion of that time. 

He had always been anxious like this. 

* * *

"Why did you go hide?" Victor asked immediately after Yuri returned with theJapanese skater. 

Yuri had to admit he was curious, too. 

But Yuuri only stared at Victor in surprise before he went bright red and looked away, offering words that should have been so obvious. 

"Because I needed to be alone."

Yuri's eyes narrowed, but Victor accepted  this and smiled brightly. 

* * *

Slowly, Yuuri stopped offering answers to questions like this from his coach. 

The Russian skater-turned-coach seemed to already know anyway. 

So when Yuuri had an attack, he was left alone unless Phichit or Yuri caught wind of it. 

And then it was either concern covered in half-accepted affection or worry hidden by sarcastic barbs and insults. 

Both cheered Yuuri up the same, though. 

* * *

He continued to put everything he felt into his skating.

It got harder every time, too. 

Sure, he got better at it, he landed his jumps. But it rubbed at the beginnings of the painful injury that was blooming in his chest from it. 

* * *

He couldn't pinpoint when he started self destructing. 

He had his attacks so often now that it didn't seem like any time passed at all from one to the next. 

The next one Yuri interrupted in a bathroom at a competition after it was all done and everyone was getting ready to leave or do interviews, he showed up to see Yuuri scratching at already raw skin. 

And boy, did that hurt to see.

A panic attack was one thing. A physical wound was another. 

So Yuri grabbed the other man's arms - right at the scratched raw parts and pulled him up to get him moving towards being a bit better. 

Sweater sleeves pulled down to hide the damages, and tear tracks wiped away, there wasn't much to tip anyone off. 

Yuri messages Phichit  about what had happened, though, so he'd keep an eye out too.

* * *

By the next time Yuri and Phichit see Yuuri, the marks on his arms were gone, no scarring left behind.

No new scratch marks.

But there is a new habit of tugging at his hair absently.

Phichit noticed it first and texted Yuri about it, catching the Russian off guard. 

The Japanese skater still hid away a lot. 

But Victor wasn't as worried now as he used to be. 

* * *

Yuuri's panic attacks stopped happening so much. 

On the ice, nothing had really changed, though. He still moved as though it were the only thing keeping him alive. He stayed relaxed and never responded to the crowd until the program's end.

Yuri figured it was because the elder never felt the weight of not being alone until he had bared his soul to them. 

* * *

He still didn't talk much when a group of them went for dinner. 

If he said anything, it was to draw attention away from himself. 

Yuri often scoffed quietly in response, but every now and again, he'd see the tight grip Yuuri kept on his sleeves in these moments and it would make sense. 

He wondered if Victor knew the object of his obsession had harmed himself, and if Yuuri still was, just in a different way or place. 

He never asked.

* * *

"It's hard to love anyone if you dont love yourself first, you know."

Hearing these words from Phichit surprised Yuri and he glanced over to see Yuuri standing there in his practice clothes, looking horribly small.

He chose not to head over. 

Phichit could handle it this time, amd with more delicacy than Yuri could ever dream of. 

Once the Thai skater joined him on the ice again, he offered a questioning look. 

"His theme is love," Phichit commented. "But you've seen how it's gone. He's wondering why it doesn't feel right."

* * *

The event that followed that day's practice went by without any issue for Yuuri. 

It was surprising, but a welcome change. 

He still gave all of himself to his program, but this time, no panic attack followed. 

Yuri seemed surprised when Victor joined them at dinner that evening without Yuuri. 

This surprise escalated when the elder Russian took the time of it just being the three of them to speak to them without fear of rumors starting. 

"He's hurt himself before?"

It's so sudden that both of the other boys freeze. 

Yuri recovers quicker and answers. "He scratched his arms raw during one of those attacks once."

"But never again?"

Phichit's too still, Yuri thinks. The Thai skater is always moving in some way, but not now. 

It sort of scares the blond, but not nearly as much as the words that come from him. 

"What has he done? Is he okay?"

Yuri catches up then and his eyes widen as he looks to Victor. 

Thankfully, he sees Victor shake his head. 

"He's just been more secretive."

Phichit relaxes then and his constant need for movement returns, allowing Yuri to relax too 

* * *

 _He may not be hurting himself like we figured, but he's over working himself,_ Yuri thought when he saw the Japanese skater at the final event of the season. 

He didn't bring it up 

* * *

After the event - Yuuri walking away with silver and more bruises than is healthy - comes the first attack in a while. 

To add to that, it's the first to begin in front of a crowd 

It happens as soon as they're all off the ice after the podium

Victor catches him as soon as he starts to collapse in on himself and pulls him away from the crowded area to the change room. 

Yuri and Phichit follow. 

But there was no helping this time. 

Yuuri flinched away from all of them and hands flew to cover his ears against the outside world. 

Yuri wished he knew what had caused this meltdown. 

But it didn't matter anymore when he watches hands fall to run at arms. Not scratching, just rubbing, ghosting fingers against a pulse point. 

They're helpless to do anything but stand by, useless, and watch as Yuuri slowly pulls himself out of it. 

Yuri takes it all in. It's so different than his learned second hand tricks. 

It's fingers running over a pulse point or flexively grabbing and pulling at dark, mussed-up hair. 

It's closed eyes against slowing tears and sobs, hiccups, and gasping breaths that start off as  _not enough_ and jump to  _too much_ and end in harsh coughing. 

It shakes Yuri to see this, and upon sparing a look, he sees it effects Victor and Phichit too. 

When cinnamon eyes open, Phichit speaks before a shaky apology can leave Yuuri. 

"Your theme next season should be strength."

Yuri silently agrees. 

Yuuri stares at him, but doesn't ask why he thought there would be a next season for him. 

He already knows they won't let him quit. 

And so, he looks down, still-shaking fingers ghosting across the pulse point on his wrist again. 

"But why strength? I'm not strong."

And that sets Yuri off.

"We just watched you pull yourself out of an attack, идиот. Конечно, это должна быть сила!"

Yuuri stared at him in confusion, and  Victor let the silence last for a moment before smiling. 

"Well said, Yurio."

Yuuri doesn't ask for a translation. 

* * *

With the season over, they all head their separate ways. 

They stay in touch, but it isn't the same. 

Victor and Yuri wind up in Hasetsu again not long before they have to start working on preparations for the new season. 

They don't like what they see when they get there. 

Yuuri hasn't changed physically, but what little confidence he'd built up was gone. 

He was a shadow of himself, his smile fake and beaming and a slap to the face to both of the Russians 

"We have a lot of work ahead of us, Victor told the blond later that night when it was just the two of them. 

Yuri didn't say anything, just hummed in agreement as he messaged Phichit and checked his social media. 

It wasn't like he could do anything to help right then, anyway. 

 

**Author's Note:**

> Translations:
> 
> These might be off (I used Google translate, but my phone didn't correct me in a Russian setting when I typed it out so here's hoping)
> 
> идиот: idiot  
> Конечно, это должна быть сила: of course it has to be strength (the literal translation read force, but context and stuff). 
> 
> I apologize if my Russian offends anyone. I don't know any of the language (yet, I'm determined to learn)


End file.
